Fake Dating
by FyoraHime
Summary: May and Drew pretend to be dating to satisfy Drew's snooty relatives. Can they pull off being boyfriend and girlfriend for a night? One-shot for day 3 of Contestshipping Week 2017: Fake Dating


One night.

He had asked her to just bear the situation for one night.

The two of them had spent hours conjuring up a story that would please even his high-maintenance, judgmental relatives. How many times had they gone over the rules and rehearsed what they would say? How many times had Drew harped on her to be sure that she memorized every piece of their fabrication, so that nobody could exploit any moment of hesitation? He wanted to be absolutely certain that nobody caught on to their ruse or could ever doubt for a moment that they truly were a happy, lovey-dovey, genuine couple.

How ironic that he should be the one to fumble before the waiter even took their dinner order.

"Where did you two young sprites meet?" That had been easy to answer, since no lying was involved. May vividly remembered her first meeting with her rival. She could recall the sight of him stopping her frisbee with ease, the smug smirk spread over his face, the way he sauntered over to her across the sand.

"How long have you two been dating?" The man who asked the first question bore practically no physical resemblance to Drew, but this woman was clearly related to May's "boyfriend." Her eyes were the same shade of green, although her hair was darker, more similar to a pine than a… what would she call it? Grass? Grass seemed the best way to describe the color of Drew's hair.

"January," she replied casually, having reviewed this basic aspect of her fictional dating history over and over again. However, her calm demeanor was shaken by a shiver than ran down her spine as she listened to what left Drew's mouth.

"Jun-uary." He recovered quickly, and he spoke almost at the same time as May, so hopefully their dinner party would not notice.

May certainly did.

'June? That's a five month difference!' She had half a mind to kick him under the table, but before she could let her emotions get the best of her, she simply grabbed his hand. An innocent gesture on the surface, but from the way she squeezed it tightly as if she were attempting to make it pop, she hoped Drew would get the message. If their deceit was discovered, it was _his_ fault.

The next few minutes proceeded without incident. For every subsequent question, both young coordinators gave the answers they rehearsed. No kicks or squeezes were necessary. From the way that Drew failed to make eye contact with her, though, the brunette could tell that he was far more embarrassed than he was willing to let on. Luckily, as performers, the two of them had grown accustomed to acting for a crowd and putting on a show.

"Hon, I'm popping into the restroom. If the waiter comes back before I do, tell him I want my usual." The woman planted a kiss on her spouse's cheek before hurrying away from the table.

"No problem, dear," he called after her warmly, but then he turned a glimmering gaze onto Drew. "Don't fret, boy. Once you two reach our age, you will know what your lady's 'usual' is as well. Hopefully it won't be expensive." Every time he spoke, May fought the urge to shudder.

"Oh, want to test me now?" Drew chuckled softly, albeit uncomfortably. He turned to look at May, and he furrowed his brow as if in deep contemplation. Was he actually about to guess her order? Maybe he felt the need to redeem himself and seem like a good "boyfriend." If he expected her to adapt her order to be more similar to his guess, just for the sake of appeasing his relatives, then he was sorely mistaken; her stomach took orders from nobody. "Since there's no ramen on this menu, as it's a Unovan restaurant," he began, and she felt her face get hot, "I'd have to say you're going with a hamburger and fries. The burger will be medium. Also, you'll pass on the onions but request barbecue sauce on the side, because your sweet tooth is so weak for Unovan sauce."

May had to make a conscious effort to keep her jaw from dropping to the floor. He had almost nailed her order. "Medium rare," she corrected him simply. They had eaten out a couple of times for coordinator events or in preparation for tonight, but was that really often enough for him to know her so well? Maybe she had misjudged him. Maybe he paid closer attention to her than she gave him credit for. Maybe he deserved the title of good "boyfriend."

Their company seemed rather impressed, although May tuned out his voice as she reanalyzed different aspects of her relationship with Drew up to this point. When they first met, did he smirk or just smile? Did he saunter or did he struggle across the sand while trying to keep up a dignified aura? All night he had been laughing and chatting as if it came naturally to him, but upon closer inspection, his eyes seemed troubled. Was he just as annoyed by his snooty relatives? She would be the first to ruefully admit his skills as a coordinator and his finesse on stage. Should it surprise her that this entire night had been an act? To him, was this restaurant just another stage?

A newfound respect for Drew began to bud from deep in her soul, and she smiled softly as she turned to watch him. 'He ordered a Lum juice,' she realized, spotting the green beverage in front of him. 'He only orders Lum juice when he's nervous. Otherwise he orders Pecha.' Since when had she spent so much time paying attention to _him_?

They were only pretending to be a couple, right?

"… May can eat 20 bowls of ramen before I can finish 2. It's funny how she has such a sensitive, acute palate, yet she can't cook to save her life."

"Ex-CUSE me?" Her attention was called back to the present when she heard her name, and now she almost wished she hadn't. "You're the coordinator who can't even coordinate his outfit!" she retorted with a huff, folding her arms across her chest.

Of course they were just pretending. She couldn't _actually_ fall for someone like him!


End file.
